All's Fair In Love, War, and the Acquisition of a Bride
by LaylanatorXVII
Summary: Thor wakes up one fine morning to discover that his hammer is missing. Lovely. Against his better judgment, he calls upon Loki for help. This can't end well. A (hopefully) humorous retelling of the myth in which Thor has to dress as a bride to get his hammer back. I am reposting this in the hope that it will stop registering as a Code 1 on the search browser. I love reviews.


_A/N:_

 _Okay, so author's note is LONG. Settle down for the long haul, I have a tendency to ramble._

 _Hello, anybody who might happen to click on this story (sadly, it seems that the Norse Mythology archive is sort of lacking in visitors). This is basically a retelling of the myth in which Thor gets his hammer stolen and has to dress as a bride in order to get it back._

 _ **WARNINGS:**_ _Here there be curse words. Not many, and not really bad ones, but the incredibly easily offended may need to seek life elsewhere. Of course, such people should probably not be on the Internet at all, but that's a discussion for another time and place._

 _There may also be certain amounts of OOCness, since I am incapable of writing seriously and I have pretty much given up on trying. ( **Edit: hahahahahahhaahahaha oh how things have changed, dear, innocent me of the past, you merely needed to forgo sleep and write at two in the morning hahahhahaha)**_

 _Also, there may be slight Thor bashing. I don't hate him nearly as much as it seems I do, I promise._

 _I also have sort of an odd writing style. This was pretty much my trial run with sophisticated writing, so it may be that, but… To make things short, there are anachronisms and fourth-wall breakage galore in some places, but hopefully it is entertaining._

 _In the event that you do not find it entertaining:_

 _Constructive criticism is treasured. Flames will be used to send up a signal fire to Sam Elliott with the double purpose of broadcasting my location so that he can find me with ease and being a physical representation of my burning love and desire for him. No bashing on the Sam, either, please._

 _This is heavily influenced in places by the Marvel movies, so in the event that something is inaccurate Mythology-wise, it may be that. Sorry._

 _Thanks, and enjoy._

* * *

 _ **DISCLAIMER:**_ _Is this even necessary for a myth? Does anyone own Thor and Loki? I don't think so. And I don't think that the Vikings are going to have much to say on the subject of fanfiction and lawsuits anyway. But here it is, anyhow._

* * *

Our story begins on Asgard, the home of the Norse gods. Odin, Frigga, Thor...it's their crib. It is a land of wonderful sights, beautiful epic awesomeness...and terrible security.

So Thor, I guess, wakes up hung-over after a long night of drinking ale at the pub. (I just imagine Norse mythology Thor in a constant state of semi-drunkenness.) So he reaches for his hammer, Mjolnir, to commit suicide to ease the pounding in his head or throw through the wall in anger (I imagine him always doing this, too, just because he can), when he realizes it's gone. Not there. Stolen. Missing. On the back if the milk box. Thor, of course panics. (He will deny this.)

But after he calms down, he decides to do what all the other gods do when there is a crisis...

He fetches Loki.

Now this might seem strange, considering that Loki is, like, the most untrustworthy dude around, but I'll let you in on a little secret—the rest of the gods are utter MORONS. So, he fetches Loki.

So he finds Loki just, like, chillin' with his hair up in curlers plotting in his evil planner or something and drags him back to Asgard. So, he tells Loki everything, pulling his blonde hair out in great big clumps (much to the amusement of Loki, who makes him explain it again in the hopes Thor will pull all his hair out and become bald-unfortunately, he doesn't) and Loki, of course, figures it out.

Loki goes, "Dude, it was probably the Frost Giants. You know, your mortal enemies who would loooove to steal your hammer?"

Thor, of course, is stunned by the power of deductive reasoning.

* * *

So Loki, being the awesome person that he is, decides he needs a few more brownie points with the gods, so he turns into a hawk and flies to Jotunheim to scope it out. (It is at this point I wonder: where was Heimdall? He's supposed to be this omniscient dude who can see everything in the Nine Realms, but he just MISSES the dude creeping into Thor's room and walking out with this mystical hammer? What, was he on a coffee break? But I digress.)

So, like I said, Loki flies into the realm of the Frost Giants to see what's up. He uses his "think like the evil overlord" powers and flies into this palace where Thrym, the king of the Frost Giants, is just chillin' (Pun not intended).

So Thrym is just sitting there with- surprise, surprise- Mjolnir.

So Loki transforms into his normal form. You would expect Thrym to freak out, wouldn't you? But no. Apparently hawks spontaneously turn into the god of mischief every day there.

So Thrym is just sitting there evilly stroking some Frost-Giant-Cat or something, holding Mjolnir. So Loki cuts to the chase.

"See that Lakers game last Sunday?"

Ha, ha, no. Now if this was real life, yes, they would talk about the Lakers for forty minutes, but this is MYTHOLOGY, so men aren't always portrayed correctly.

So Loki just strolls up to this guy and says, "Okay, you stole Thor's hammer. Very funny. What do you want?" Because, you know, he has to want something.

"I want to marry Freya, the goddess of beauty." Thrym says, sitting there, blue skin, the firelight glaring off his bald head, nose hairs sprouting from both nostrils.

And Loki knows they're screwed.

* * *

(Three hours later, on Asgard)

"No, YOU tell her!"

"WHAT?! Do you think I'm STUPID?!"

(pause)

"Do not answer that, Loki."

"Well, _I_ am not telling her. Do you think I'm insane?"

(Pause)

"Touché. Rock, Paper, Pickax, then?" (Leonardo Di Vinci invented scissors, so I guess then they just hacked at paper with anything sharp.)

"Okay. " (Together :) "Rock, Paper, Pickax!"

"(NORSE SWEARING)!"

* * *

(Two minutes later, outside Freya's quarters)

Crash.

"Freya-" Crash. "Freya, be reasonable-"

Shatter.

Loki runs from the room with his arms over his head, ducking as vases and the like are thrown at him by the psychotic goddess.

"Freya, it's necessary-"Crash, precariously close to his head.

"LISTEN TO ME, YOU PSYCHOTIC WOMAN! DO YOU WANT TO BRING ABOUT RAGNAVOK UPON US ALL?!"

Silence falls for a few moments, and somehow Loki is more terrified than before.

"Tha-"

CLUNK.

Thud.

"Um…" Thor sidled over to the prone form. "Loki? You okay, man?"

* * *

Loki sat, holding a chunk of ice to the rising bump on his skull, evidence of the chair that Freya had thrown. (Loki was grudgingly impressed. He had not known that Freya possessed that kind of strength.)

"Well, Thor, it has finally happened. We have found someone that I cannot convince."

"WHAT?! You must- You must make another attempt!"

"And get another chair to the head? I think not." Loki tilted the chair back on two legs. "If Thrym only knew what a bullet he dodged… Who would WANT to marry that…?" Then, recalling that I am typing this on a school computer and are therefore hesitant to type even a mild swear word on it, trailed off. _(Edit: Yep, that's a lie. In fact, I shall break that rule later in this story…)_

"What are we going to do?" Thor muttered, letting his head fall forward in his hands.

" _You_ are going to look like an idiot next time you show up to fight a battle. _I_ am going to kick back and enjoy the show."

All of a sudden Loki found himself held by the collar, his feet suspended several inches off the ground. Thor held him up in the air, looking angrier than Loki had ever seen him, and growled, "If you don't help me fix this mess, I swear to the Valkyries that I will tell Sif who cut off all her hair in her sleep."

"You wouldn't…"

Thor raised an eyebrow.

"You would…" Loki was stunned. Thor was blackmailing him. Blackmail…the first step in the fine dark art of manipulation…Something immoral… _evil_ …

Loki was impressed that he would stoop so low, and proud that he had managed to corrupt him, even if it was just petty blackmail.

"Fine," Loki muttered, not too keen on the goddess to be privy to the information that Thor was threatening to divulge. "Put me down so I can think of a plan…"

Thor dropped him, and Loki fell to the ground, hitting his already sore head on the floor once again.

"Sorry."

"Idiot."

* * *

Thor slumped in his seat, teeth gritted, fingers pressing into his temples in a silent plea (to whom?) for patience. He couldn't stand this much longer.  
Back and forth, back and forth, from the window to the door and back again. It had only persisted for the last quarter of an hour, but felt like much longer to the god of thunder. Thor took a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing it in a slow exhale. However, his eyes kept being drawn back to the agitating sight before him, and, sadly, his (scarce to begin with) restraint crumbled.

"WILL YOU STOP PACING?!"

Loki (although he'll never admit it) jumped and turned to Thor.

"Alright! By the Norns, you're as temperamental as a woman…"

Pause. "Wait a minute…"

Loki turned and stared at Thor, smirking in such a way that could only mean a plan was being formulated. And Thor could tell by the instinctive cold sinking in his stomach and sudden urge to flee, that he wouldn't like it.

* * *

"OW! Watch it!"  
"Hold still!"

"How do you expect me to hold still when you are poking me with a pin?!"  
"DO YOU WANT YOUR HAMMER BACK OR NOT?!"

A pause.

"Now who's temperamental?"

Loki glared at him, although it didn't have quite the same effect as it would have before. Actually, scratch that- it probably had greater effect, seeing as the glare now came from a woman, the plague and terror of all men. _(_ _ **NOTE:**_ _From this point in the story onward, Loki is going to be in the form of a woman. I may still refer to Loki as "he" or "she", and I might switch back and forth between the pronouns. Just keep in mind that until further notice, Loki appears to be a woman. I apologize if this is confusing.)_

Thor sighed in resignation, as well as a healthy dose of impatience. "Get it over with, then."

"Thank you!" With a huff, Loki went back to work.

Now, if anyone happened to look in on Thor that day, two things would have happened: First, they would have stood astounded in the doorway, completely baffled at the scene; and then they would have burst into hysterical laughter.

Thor grudgingly had to admit that they must make a very odd sight: Loki, in female form (because magicians are just cool, they can do stuff like shape-shifting) dressed as a bridesmaid, fitting Thor for a wedding dress, and Thor standing there with a grim expression befitting someone marching to impending doom.

"I do not like this plan."  
"You have made that clear."  
"And this statement has no effect on you?"  
"None at all."

This was not entirely true: Loki actually took great joy in the fact that Thor did not like the plan. But, nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut and kept fitting the dress.

* * *

"Okay, done," Loki said, stitching up the last of the hem and sliding out the pin.

"Good. So I can move now?"

"No."

"I have been standing here for an hour." Thor grumbled.

"Well, you can stand there for another two minutes." Loki said, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

Thor stood there glaring, wondering what in Yggdrasil his father would say if he saw him now…

Thor was so lost in thought that when Loki threw something over his head, he panicked.

"AHHH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!" Thor screeched, swatting at the thing over his face, spinning in a circle.

Loki stood there, thinking wistfully of the camcorder, and regretting that it wouldn't be invented for centuries, because he would have given anything to record the ridiculous sight of Thor spinning around in a wedding dress screaming like a girl.

Eventually, though, his logical side registered that Thor was going to attract a lot of attention if he continued to scream as though he was on fire, or perhaps confronted with algebra, and grabbed his arm to stop his panicked spinning.

"It. Is. A. VEIL!" Loki hissed, giving Thor's arm a little shake. "A _veil,_ you idiot. While Thrym isn't the sharpest crayon in the box, I do believe that he has enough intelligence to realize that Freya does not have a BEARD, Thor!"

Thor stopped clawing at the veil, feeling rather foolish. "Oh."  
"And you're supposed to be a bride, anyway. Brides typically wear veils. Now let's go, before you get the whole palace over here."  
Thor went pale at the thought of the entirety of Asgard seeing him in this shame, and practically ran to the door, tripping on the hem on the way.

* * *

Thor was missing something, he was sure if it. There was some detail that he was missing, but he wasn't exactly sure what it was. While this wasn't entirely unusual in his case, especially when around Loki, who enjoyed running rings around those of lower intelligence and made no bones about it, this was different. So his feeling of uneasiness didn't recede as he crept from shadow to shadow throughout the corridors (although it was completely deserted), following Loki who strode unabashedly down the center of the hall.

When he realized where they were heading, it clicked, and ice cold panic flowed through his veins.

"NO!" He hiked up his skirts and started sprinting back the way they came. However, adrenaline has nothing on the god of mischief, and he didn't make it far before he was tripped up by a bolt of green light.

Loki gave an exasperated sigh, turned around and resigned himself to dragging Thor to the Bifrost.

"NO! You can't do this to me!" Thor cried, lying on the floor with his arms pinned to his sides and his legs locked together by the invisible force of Loki's seidr. (This is the word I have previously seen used in reference to Loki's magical powers, so I'm just gonna roll with it.)

Loki gave an exasperated sigh, Thor's ankles resting on his shoulder as he slowly made his way down the hall, dragging Thor behind him. "If you want your hammer back, you have to go this way, moron. Do you know any other ways to Jotunheim?"

"But-"  
"I didn't think so. Therefore, we much travel using the Bifrost, and unfortunately for you, that means that Heimdall is going to see your new outfit. Life sucks sometimes, now get over it. And stop squirming! You are only making this more difficult on the both of us."  
Of course this meant that Thor flopped around like a trout the entire way.

* * *

When Heimdall saw them, he didn't laugh. No, he was far too confused for that.

Now, Heimdall had seen some strange things. He saw the whole universe, after all. (Except for that convenient blind spot that Thrym obviously exploited…but enough about the plot holes.) He had seen all of the other weird things from Norse mythology happen, including the birth of Sleipnir, but the sight before his eyes topped all.

"And just what do you think you are doing?"

Puffing, Loki ignored him and continued to drag Thor onto the slightly raised platform. Only when Thor was situated on the floor in all his cross-dressing glory, cursing Loki (rather creatively, and by no means under his breath), did Loki reply.

At the end of his explanation, Heimdall was wondering just HOW he missed all that.

But, anyway.

"So you expect me to just _allow_ you to drag Thor to Jotunheim to go through with this insane plan?"  
"I really don't see how we have any other choice. Unless, of course, _you'd_ like to play the part of the blushing bride?"

Heimdall conceded the point.

* * *

Thor couldn't turn his head, but when Loki clambered up onto the platform and smirked down at him, he knew that Heimdall was about to activate the Bifrost.

"Loki, I swear to the Norns, if this gets out, I will…"

"You'll what?" Loki seriously doubted that there was anything that Thor could really threaten him with.

"I will kill you…"  
Loki snorted. How original.

"...and then get you sent to Valhalla."

As the multicolored light of the Bifrost surrounded them, Loki was consumed with the horrifying prospect of spending eternity with a bunch of goody-goody war heroes for his entire afterlife.

* * *

When the colors stopped swirling and the barren landscape of Jotunheim came into focus, Loki lifted the enchantment off of Thor and allowed him to walk under his own steam, trusting Thor to realize that he know had no choice but to go through with the plan. Well, that and Loki was getting tired of dragging him.

Predictably, Thor gave a heavy sigh and started plodding along; his footfalls sending vibrations through the ground and causing the shriveled leaves on the sparse vegetation shake.

After a minute or two, Loki couldn't hold his tongue anymore.

"You have to stop walking like that."  
Thor paused. "Like what?"

Loki, seizing the opportunity to mock him, started stomping along, although he had to practically leap off the ground in an attempt to recreate the thunderous noise Thor was making.

"That. Women don't walk like that."  
"You just did."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "You have to _convince_ Thrym, even if just for a short while, that you are a woman and you _cannot do that_ if you are shaking the ground with every step you take."

Thor grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, and then said, "Fine. How _do_ women walk, then, if you're such the expert?"

"Like a human being."

"Freya isn't a human being."

"Figure of speech. Just—"

Loki wondered why women had to be so confusing.

* * *

After fifteen minutes of trial and error, Thor did end up with some semblance of the more graceful lope of a woman. Well, he wasn't shaking the ground, anyway. So, finally, after nine pages of exposition, they made it to their destination.

Thrym's palace-if you could call it that- was not much to look at. It was tall, sure, but it was covered in ice and sections of it were crumbling off en masse. No wonder Thrym had to resort to blackmail to pick up chicks.

As they walked towards the door- well, Loki walked, Thor shuffled along with a facial expression (although it was hidden by the veil) that suggested he would rather be ANYWHERE else than here, even if it had to be Nifleheim. Of course, it didn't help to ease his anxiety that Loki was hissing to him under his breath.

"-and for the love of Odin, keep your mouth shut. Let me do all the talking. And do not under any circumstances, let them lift the veil. That will blow your cover for good. Oh, and one last thing, make sure you don't-"Loki began, but was cut off by the doors creaking open.

It was Thrym, and his posse, entourage, whatever you want to call it. He, of course, looked ecstatic.

"Lady Freya, how kind of you to accept my offer..."

(And this is where I feel the need to butt in. Think about this: How, even if Freya did agree to this scheme, was Thor supposed to get his hammer back? Obviously, Thrym was not going to let her out of his sight after they got hitched, and I doubt Thor is exactly welcome in Jotunheim...what, was he supposed to FedEx it to Thor? But I digress.)

And Thrym just kept layering on the compliments, stuff like, "You're lovelier than a frostbitten nose," or whatever they consider complimentary in a land where everything is frozen...

And then he turned to Loki. "And you are...?"

Loki took a moment to consider how stupid he was after all, and wondered vaguely if extreme cold took a toll on the number of brain cells one possessed. Aside from the fact that he was in female form, he looked exactly like he had before. Same hair, same eyes, same sardonic eyebrow raise...same smirk that caused most to have an uncontrollable urge to run for the hills and/or their mother... Not to mention that he didn't think it strange that the goddess so renowned for her beauty was rather too bulky to be considered femininely attractive, far too tall, and stood with "her" feet planted as if "she" were about to decapitate you with a longsword...or smash your head in with a hammer, in this case.

Loki must have spent far too long in his ponderings, because next thing he knew, a shrill, obviously fake falsetto was saying, "This is my, uh, bridesmaid..."

Thrym obviously found nothing amiss with the voice either.

"Oh, okay..." And turned and led the way in to the throne room/impromptu dining hall, leaving the two "women" stunned at the masculine stupidity (although of course they liked to believe that Thrym was just exceptionally slow.)

"What did I say about letting me do all the talking?!" Loki hissed to Thor.

"You weren't talking; you were just standing there with your eyes unfocused."

"Whatever, you should have just—"

But their argument was cut off by a very enthusiastic Thrym dragging them over to a table at which a bunch of very surprised looking Frost Giants were sitting. It was obvious that they had not expected anyone to show up. And, evidently, they found nothing unusual in the so-called "goddess of beauty's" appearance, either.

Thor was deposited into a seat just to the right of Thrym himself (duh, he was the "bride") and a rather disgruntled-looking Frost Giant was unceremoniously booted out of the seat to Thor's right so that the "bridesmaid" could have a seat.

It was at this point that Thrym started to notice some-oddities- about his chosen bride. Frankly, I think it was about damn time. (And this is the part that mildly reminds me of the story of Little Red Riding Hood.)

Thrym noticed that behind the veil, Freya-Thor's eyes seemed to be red. "Why are her eyes all red and shtizz?" (I'm sure he didn't word it like that, but sue me-it's my retelling. Echo- "Grandma, what big eyes you have..." You see what I mean?)

Now, the REAL reason Thor's eyes were 'all red and shtizz' was because Thrym had done that weird 'grope the girlfriend's knee' thing when he sat down and Thor was now entertaining some rather disturbing fantasies about killing the Frost Giant King in rather creative ways. (Now, I know the knee thing is not really that serious. But look at it in context.)

Loki, of course, wanted to avoid Thor's "woman voice" as much as possible and interjected with the rather lame excuse of: "Um...her Lady has been _so_ excited about her wedding day that she has not slept in three days!"

"Oh, okay. But—I thought I only asked yesterday—"

"MOVING ON!"

Thrym decided to let it go, mostly because it fed his masculine vanity.

* * *

Loki managed to avoid awkward situations that would lead to Thor speaking, answering questions, asserting himself in any way, or pretty much anything but breathing, for a good amount of time. Then, of course, disaster struck.

"Dinner is served."

* * *

The entire wedding party sat there in stunned silence. Loki wished he could look away, but some sort of sick fascination compelled him to keep watching.

Eventually, Thor realized that everyone was staring at him. Belatedly, it occurred to him that females might not typically devour three roast pigs and two barrels of mead in one sitting.

He slowly raised his head from the platter overflowing with animal bones and scraps of discarded flesh to find the entire table's eyes were locked in him in stunned disbelief.

"...What?"

They kept staring, speechless. Even Loki seemed at a loss for words.

"Um...are you...okay, Lady Freya?" It was Thrym, surprisingly, who recovered his speech capabilities first.

"Uh...yeah?" Thor replied stupidly, glancing at the shell-shocked Loki for guidance.

"Um...right! Her Lady has been SO excited for her wedding day that for three days she hasn't been able to eat for the nerves!" Loki interjected, his voice, already shriller in his female form, jumping up a couple octaves nonetheless as he wondered how far Thrym's cluelessness would stretch.

Thrym's eyebrows (strangely bushy and full despite being completely bald) relaxed after this explanation only to knit back together again. "But I only asked yesterd-"

"OH MY GODS, IS THAT MUTTON I SEE?!"

Thor-Freya snapped his/her head from side to side, much like a Golden Retriever when they hear the words "tennis ball."

"Mutton?! Where?!"

Miraculously, there actually was mutton, and this effectively changed the subject as everyone went back to watching the "bride" tear into the food with renewed gusto.

* * *

"EAT! COME ON, FASTER!"

"I got ten bucks on this, COME ON!"

"FIFTEEN...SIXTEEN...SEVENTEEN...SEVENTEEN SECONDS! The pot goes to the bridesmaid!" The Frost-Giant in charge of the betting pool said, after counting seventeen drops of water falling off of an icicle.

Loki was not exactly sure how Thor's suspicious appetite had escalated into placing bets on how quickly "she" could devour a leg of mutton, but as long as he was winning (and having seen Thor eat many times, he had won for eight consecutive turns), no complaints here.

The Frost Giants present groaned as they, once again, had to fork over their money to the "bridesmaid." Loki scooped it all up and resisted the urge to maniacally cackle. Obviously they hadn't realized who he really was yet, but he didn't want to press his luck.

Especially when he was winning.

* * *

Twenty minutes and six legs of mutton, two sides of beef and nine casks of ale later, Thrym decided that he simply could not afford to keep losing to his bride's assistant and was forced to call the game to an end. It was time to get on with the wedding as it was...

Although the loud, sour belch that Freya let out at the end was rather off-putting.

Well, at least she was pretty, right?

* * *

Loki was smugly counting his winnings when Thrym made the announcement.

"Simmer down..." Thrym said, but went unheard in the clamor of the over-excited mesh of gamblers.

"SHUT UP!" He yelled next, standing up, his face turning red (which, considering he was blue looked really odd).

Still, he went unnoticed.

Thor, somewhere in his blonde head, knew that his moment was soon at hand, and took action.

The fish came flying across the room and smacked Loki in the face with a resounding SPLAT sound. Loki, and all the surrounding Frost-Giants, some sobbing at the loss of their money, fell silent as the fish slowly slid off of her forehead into her lap. Loki slowly looked up from her strange assortment of coins, paper money, and whatever knick-knacks the gamblers happened to have in their pockets to see Thor wiping his hand off on the hem of the wedding gown. Lucky for their cover, Thrym seized the opportunity, or Loki would have retaliated with a vengeance.

"Yes, thank you," Thrym said, oblivious to the fish-slap that his "bride" had just dealt out, "Now that you have settled down, we must get on with the wedding."

Loki chose to file the Fish-Slap Incident (yes, with capital letters) away for future retaliatory strikes and prepared for what he knew was coming next.

Thrym clapped his hands and two Frost Giants came in through a door at the end of the hall, dragging between them-lo and behold- Thor's hammer.

The Frost Giants, after a long and arduous journey from the end of the hall, made it to the head of the table, and gladly deposited the heavy hammer to Thrym before running as fast as possible out of the hall again, as if they feared they would be asked to drag it back out and reenter.

Thrym effortlessly reached down and picked the hammer up (How? I don't know; use your imagination. Maybe he owns a Bowflex, I don't know,) and held it above his head.

At this point, Loki was afraid that Thor was going to burst. At the sight of his beloved Mjolnir he had begun to bounce in his seat like a small child at Christmas. Loki prayed-to whom? I don't know- that Thor would not blow their cover too soon.

Thrym then made a long and arduous speech that neither Asgardian heard, and then moved to place the hammer on "Freya's" lap.

"To your fertility, my darling..." He wiggled his eyebrows. (A/N: The Vikings would actually bless a bride's fertility this way on her wedding day, so I stole this because I couldn't remember why exactly he put the hammer in Thor's lap. This might actually be why...but on with the story.)

At that suggestive eyebrow wiggle, Thor lost it.

* * *

Thor grabbed the hammer from his lap and Thrym's grip and proceeded to express his extreme displeasure by way of whacking the stunned groom with the newly recovered Mjolnir.

Thrym flew backwards and Thor tossed up the itchy, irritating veil and proceeded to crash the wedding (literally) in a blur of gauze, silk, and blond facial hair.

And all the while Loki was scooping his winnings into a bag as fast as possible, laughing like a maniac. (No one was able to work up the nerve to attack the cackling bridesmaid, either because they realized who it was or the laughing was just too unnerving.)

Fifteen minutes later, Loki and Thor strolled out of the wrecked dining hall, Thor whistling merrily and swinging his hammer, wedding gown and all, and Loki still snickering under his breath and counting his winnings, making sure to stay well out of the path of the swinging hammer.

And behind them, from his place on the dining room floor, amidst the wreckage of the table and the chairs, with a rising black eye, Thrym muttered, "...looks like I'm not the only one with cold feet." (BA BUM CRASH! Did you get the pun?)

 **THE END**

* * *

 _A/N: Here I am again; I'll try to keep this short._

 _I treasure reviews beyond measure. If you liked it, leave a review and tell me why! If you didn't like it, feel free to tell me in a_ _ **polite**_ _review what you didn't like about it._

 _Thanks for reading._

 _*prays* Please, God, I beg you: Let my line breaks show up. I am going to cry if they do not. Amen._


End file.
